My Confession
by Only Secret
Summary: This is not a story, but a series Confessions. A Confession of their deepest secret, their regrets, their thoughts. This confession is from Narcissa.
1. Petunia

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or things that you recognize from HP books (wish I did though). They all belong to the wonderful author- J.K. Rowling.

Spoiler: all HP books up to OoTP

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**My Confession**

We were close. Only one and a half years apart, my sister and I. Lily and I.

I am Petunia Evans Dursley and this is my confession.

You may think that I am the evil aunt of Harry Potter. I will admit that I was not, am not the kindest to my nephew, Lily's only child. But how could I, when his own being represents the man, the world that took my sister away? Every time I look upon his face and those green eyes, they remind me of what I had lost all those years ago.

Lily and I were close. Side by side. Two peas in the pot, that's what my parents used to say. We had loving moments between sisters. We had laughed together at meaningless jokes. And like every regular sisters. We had arguments. We had shouted, declaring that we hated each other. But we still love the other.

She was the older one of us. I will honestly confess that I've always been envious, and maybe in some years- jealous. She was Spitfire when I was simply Petty. She had vibrant green eyes, untouched by any other colors; mine were simply brown, dull and lifeless compared to hers. She had good grades when mine were average.

Our parents had never compared us. I thank them for that because if they had, I would've been bitterer. Lily never held anything against me. Not in our earlier years when I lived under her imaginary shadow- the shadow that I've created myself. Nor in the later years when jealousy and hurt had driven me to the point of calling her a freak- something I regret doing.

She had always said that we are sister through and through, that we are side by side. Throughout her life, she had tried to prove to me that nothing was changed between us. Yet in the end, we are worlds apart.

It had first come upon me when I turned eleven. Lily was already attending Hogwarts. The entire family was surprised when she received her letter. We were, what I learnt from Lily, Muggles. And she was a Muggle-born. We were ecstatic to have a witch in the family. Though as envious as I was, I was happy too. It was a change in our lives. Contrary to popular belief, I like changes. They make wonderful gossips.

I had thought that if Lily is a witch, I could be one too. But my letter never came.

That day, my envy for her changed. It became jealousy.

I had never realized that it was jealousy, not until recently when I got a letter from the Headmaster of her school. In that letter, it reminded me that we are sisters. Her words. I finally understood them.

'_Petty, no matter what, we are sisters. Side by side.'_

During those years when she attended that school and I in another boarding school, we returned for summer. I had always watched her from afar when she returned home with a satisfied smile, mind full of jealous thoughts. I knew that 'magic' was part of her but I could never accept her. I had wondered why she had to take up a part of her that was different from me. And that why she had to be the one that has a 'gift', a special ability.

She used to show me the different things she had learnt. She used to complain about this boy she met in her year. I had always thought that she was trying to show that she was the better daughter. In a way, I realize now, she was, for she never tried to over shadow her jealous sister. All she had tried to do was to include me in her world, but it was an invitation I had rejected, bluntly. Cruelly.

'_I want nothing to do with you, you freak!'_

I knew I hurt her then. And at that age, I was glad. Glad to see Lily down. Glad to see her vulnerable. She had stopped trying. I don't blame her. She was quick to forgive but she was no saint. She had stormed off, fighting off tears, while I gleefully observed.

After my words, we'd still shared pleasantries, the minimal ones, but we never talked again. Not about her life, not about mine. Until that day she brought that awful boy home. The boy she had complained about in our earlier years. The wizard that ruined Lily's life. The man who brought Lily's life to an early end with all he stood for. His name was James Potter.

When I first met James Potter, Vernon and I were still friends. James Potter, thinking back, was not an awful boy. He was actually far from 'awful'. I must confess that he was rather attractive and intelligent. And quite a charmer too. Our parents loved him, even when he brought with him ill news and worse fate.

'_I capture Death Eater, evil wizards or witches that kill Muggle-born, and put them in Azkaban, the wizard prison, guarded by creatures called Dementors.'_

That was one of the three times that I've seen him. The second time I met him was at Lily and his wedding. Vernon and I were having a difficult time in our relationship, but we attended together. It was the second time in my life that thought struck me.

I had always thought that the witch and magic side of Lily was a phase. A small part of me, through all my jealousy and disdain for their ways, had hoped that Lily would abandon her wand and marry a Normal man.

That never happened. Lily chose a wizard.

When they spoke their vows, I had again realized that we were worlds apart. I told her that when, as normal sisters would do, I congratulated her in front of our relatives' eyes. That day at the wedding, before Vernon and I depart.

'_You chose this life, Lily. We are worlds apart now. Just wait, nothing good will befall upon you in this life.'_

I didn't mean for the words to sound so harsh. But it did. I couldn't stop myself. It just happened. Maybe it was my relationship problem that drove me to say such thing when her eyes shone with happiness. Or maybe, it was the hurt I felt, when I realized that she was happy in a world that I will never belong.

That time, I did not feel the glee that I had every time I insulted her, hurt her. This time, when I saw from the cab's window that her smile did not reach her eyes, I felt oddly empty.

The last time I saw Lily and her husband was at the funeral of our parents' funeral. Lily and I were both pregnant. We told our relatives that they died of a car crash. Vernon thought it was a car crash too. He had said that Lily or her husband should have driven them home after dinner. But as their daughters, we knew better. Our parents were murdered. By wizards.

I was furious, filled with sadness. Our parents would never be able to see their grandchildren. Just because Lily was a witch. Just because she wouldn't give up 'magic'. Just because she joined a world that she should never belong.

When the funeral ended and our parents lay in their eternal beds, Vernon left to collect our transport, I approached her. Voluntarily. For the first and last time in years. I, in fear and distressed, told her that I wanted her out of my life. Away from my family and I. I had yelled at her. Hurled insults at her.

'_I hate you! You're truly nothing but a witch! A woman who brings nothing but sorrow to people!'_

In her grief filled mind, she did not say anything. Did not defend herself, though her husband did try. She stopped him. She just listened and let her tears flow. At the end of my rant, she said only two things. She asked for my forgiveness, which I truly think that I should've been the one asking. And she asked for a promise. An oath.

'_Promise me, Petunia, please. If anything happens to me, please take care of my child. If you can do that, sister, I'll disappear from your life.'_

I promised her. I had been desperate to push her away from my life.

As promised, she never contacted me again. I had only heard about the birth of Harry form our relatives. I had never seen her again. Nor had I seen her son. Not until I found him at my door step nearly sixteen years ago, looking at me with Lily's eyes. Telling me to fulfill my promise. To honor the pledge I made that day. Also informing me the fate that had befallen upon my sister. The fate her husband's and her world brought upon her.

We were truly worlds apart. My sister and I.

It was then I told Vernon of the secret behind my parents' deaths. I told him about Lily's magical abilities. We both promised that we would not allow her son to walk the same road that his mother chose. We vowed that we would do everything within our power to stop him from attending that school, even it meant treating him as a slave.

It had been hard in the beginning. I often see his eyes and it reminded me of Lily. But as Harry grew, it became easier. He looked so alike to his father that, as long as I don't look at him in the eyes, it does not hurt to do so.

Over the years, it had become purely a habit for me, to order him around. My fear lessened with time. But I never really forgot the promise I made to my sister. It was at the back of my mind. Both, my sister and the promise. The promise of taking him under my care. Not until when my own son was attacked by Dementors.

I was once again shaken with fear. So paralyzed with fear that I allowed Vernon to push Harry away. The Headmaster of Lily's school sent a letter to us. To remind me of my promise, the power of the words between sisters, also to let me think about the sister I've lost. First to jealousy and second to Death.

Now that I have time to think and acknowledge her part in my life. I must confess:

I love her, more than I let her know.

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A/N: Well...This is the first chapter of my series of 'My Confession'. 'My Confession' would be different confessions of the characters from HP books. I am working Peter's right now, give me some suggestion of other characters that I can write about! Oh yeah...and please Review!!


	2. Peter

Disclaimer: well, you know they don't belong to me

Spoiler: All HP books up to now

A/N: Thank you for reviewing, you don't know how important reviews are to an author.

**My Confession- Peter**

A coward. A traitor. An odd ball of the group...The Rat. That's what they call me. That's probably what you are calling me too. But do you have any idea of the reasons that made me so? The fear? The feeling of worthlessness?

My name is Peter Pettigrew. This is what I have to say for myself

I am just that child from yesterday that tried to fit in. From the day I was born till now and into the future. Honestly, I've got nothing against anyone. Not the Muggle-born, not the Pureblood...and definitely not the Potters. Not James and Lily. They are my friends. Very Good friends.

I am just a scared man, trying to find a place for myself.

When I first received my letter, my mother was relieved. Being a not-so-talented pureblood witch and abandoned by my Muggle father, she feared with all her being that I might not turned out to be a wizard.

Her family had disowned her when I, an illegitimate child, was conceived. She was stuck. Torn between the two worlds. Living in fear and barely surviving in the Muggles' or staying but discriminated in the Wizards'. My letter made her decision. The one decision that left me pondering for the last two decades on how much lives would change.

I met them on the Express. I met James first. I had run into him on the Platform, literally. I was terrified. He was a pureblood of many generations back and my first encounter with Malfoy was unpleasant. But James was very easy going, befriending me immediately, regardless of my blood.

I met Sirius in one of the compartments. He, unlike the 'most Noble and Ancient House of Black' that my mother had warned me to stay away from, was friendly. He and James became great friends very quickly. Sharing same strengths in academics and fondness for pranks.

I met Remus at the feast. He was already very quiet then. James had introduced him to Sirius, who was busily eating and I, looking around excitedly at the Great Hall. We all became friends, sharing the dormitory. In our own tight group, supporting each other in tough situations. We were the Marauders.

All my life, I am accustomed to fear. I was already living in fear back then. I fear a lot in my life. For nothing was certain in it. Not my birth, not my magical abilities. Not anything. Everything that I did could be outdone by another. And things were always done better by others.

I was terrified of the Slytherins. They had taken a liking to hex me. Though I am considered a half blood, and they usually left half bloods alone, my parentage made me nearly as bad as Mudb- Muggle-born.

James and Sirius had always stood up for me, protecting me as if I were their brother.

I had also feared that I'd lose James, Sirius and Remus. They had such influence in my life.

James and Sirius were amazing. They were like twins. I had always looked up to them. They were popular. They were clever. Both of them had powerful families in the wizarding society. In many ways, they were my protectors. They were people that I want to be. Someone who belonged in the Wizard world.

Remus, himself, had shown his academic prowess over the years. Albeit his silence, he was probably the most reasonable friend I had. He was, in many cases, also the brain of our escapades. He was accepted into our group despite his unfortunate encounter with a werewolf in his childhood. I never realized his symptoms until James and Sirius confronted him. I had always believed that he left to visit a sick member of his family.

When I became friends with them, it had never occurred me that I would be so overshadowed by them. It happened though. I had tried to catch up; I'd asked tuition from some other students. But the more I was tutored, the more I realized that I would never catch up. That I could only watch and revere from where I was.

I became more outshone every year as the three of them sprinted to the top students of the year, basking in the limelight.

I had never regretted my mother's decision of returning to the Wizard world. Not then or any time during Hogwarts. Though overshadowed, I had never feared them.

Not until our sixth year.

Sirius had always been rather reckless. But that night, I saw his recklessness at its best. He nearly got Snape killed. His wildness scared me. It scared me to know that he was capable of such hatred for another person.

The next morning, Remus shocked me too. The normally soft-spoken Remus had exploded. The normally pacific Remus became violent. His rage, I guess, was justified. But his physical power he shown that day was...inhumane. He tore the room down.

The Marauders' first and only argument.

James was torn. Unable to decide whose side to take. During those times, he devoted himself to his study. That was probably what made him Head boy with Lily in our final year. His determination awed me. I knew I could never do that. To be able to cause as much trouble as I wanted and then in half a years to clear my records with my grades to become Head Boy.

The last year past very quickly. Sirius and Remus became friends again, though Remus was slightly apprehensive. James and Lily fell in love, finally. We had all watched with mirth as James unsuccessfully wooed her for years. Too soon, it was graduation.

It was supposed to be a fun-filled day. I had expected a lot. To have a party all night, to find an apartment...I never did those things. Not after what Malfoy whispered into my ear.

'_Pettigrew, you're nothing but Potter and Black's sidekick. They will never acknowledge you power, but the Dark Lord will.'_

I was seduced by the chance to prove myself. I had never done that before. Never been able to shake off the feelings of worthlessness. I went with him that night. Without hesitation. Eager to please. I was shown the power I had over many. Including Muggles and Mud- Muggle-born.

I had regretted that decision. I regretted it as soon as the mark branded my arm. As soon as I met the Dark Lord, His eyes burning with hatred for Muggles. And His sympathy for my parentage. I wanted to show that I was a capable wizard, not to be pitied. I went home that night, regretting.

Days went, month went. I was never called upon. I thought the Dark Lord had forgotten about me and that I could forget my mistake. And to live my life.

With time, I was able to build my confidence and I truly started to feel like I belong.

But He remembered. I was summoned that day before their wedding. James and Lily's wedding. He wanted me to spy on them. I had needed persuasion. It came in the form of Cruciatus. What little confidence I had, shattered.

The feeling of triviality returned that day as I succumbed to pain. My triviality only worsen when James announced that day at his wedding that Sirius, Remus and I were his best friends and that he trusted us with his life.

'_Ladies and Gentlemen, that does not include you, Sirius, may I present you the best men of my wedding- Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew- my best friends, brothers that I trust with my entire being!'_

I tried to distance myself from them. So that I would know least about their lives. But I couldn't. I needed the security that they provided in my life. When the Potters' requested me to be their Secret Keeper, I was horrified. But I dared not to refuse. In case, He knew.

I cried that night, when the Dark Lord went for them. I cried. And I fled. I was not only frightened by the Dark Lord. I was scared of Sirius too. The temper, his recklessness that he had retrained for several years. It was surely going to be let lose.

I hid, in the Weasley house for twelve years. Not bidding my time like Sirius and Remus believed. I was simply, living, trying to survive. It was all life is to me. To survive. To take another breath.

Two years ago, the three of us met again. In the Shrieking Shack. Sirius escaped Azkaban. Remus was teaching at Hogwarts. I was with the Weasley boy, the Mudblo- Muggle-born girl and Harry. I was petrified. Sirius had always been notorious for his grudge. That day, Sirius and Remus forced me out of my animagus form- a Rat. Sirius had yelled that I should have died, like they would have done for me.

'_THAN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!'_

Maybe Sirius would. Maybe Remus too. I might too, if I were given another chance. But I might be too scared. Too terrified like I was.

I should have been killed that night, if not for Harry's nobleness. So like James. I escaped, condemning Sirius of a fate that should've been mine.

Last year, I helped raise the Dark Lord again. I had no choice. None at all. I can only survive by relying on a greater power. Like a leech, like a useless rat. I had watched that night, when the dark lord returned. I had given up my right arm willingly, for protection. I watched that night as Lily's power in her son become undone by my hand.

This year, the three of us met again. They did not see me, I think. But I was there, till the very end. I escaped with the Dark Lord. Just in time before the workers of the Ministry arrived.

But Sirius never returned that day. Not from the Department of Mystery. Not from behind the veil. Harry had screamed. Desperately. Frantically. I saw Harry struggled in Remus' hold. But he never returned. Another Marauder gone.

Only one Marauder left. Two were killed by their friend in fright. A friend that didn't deserve them.

There are so many times that I look back and wonder about that decision my mother made that day. Would I be living in the constant terror, fighting for my next breath, if I had stayed in the Muggle World? It doesn't really matter now. I made a decision.

One that I cannot turn my back to now. This was the decision I made sixteen years ago. My only life-changing decision. The Darkness I chose. I can only please and never defied.

I can only live in it, and face it like the Gryffindor that probably never lived inside me.

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A/N: Another Confession done! Please review! Your suggestions for any other characters' confession are welcome. I'll probably write Snape's next. [Keyword: probably] 


	3. Severus

Disclaimer: None of the things you recognize is mine (though i wish some of them were)

Spoiler: All HP books up to OotP

A/N: Thanks for those who reviewed for my other work! You've no idea how much you reviews motivates me.

**My confession- Snape**

Potter is dead. So is Black...

Two devastating figures in my world are dead. Gone. I should be glad. But a sense of guilt overwhelms me. Though gone, their presence still remains. Their glories and their deaths. The shadow they cast over my soul had never stood taller and darker. I guess it is true, the saying- A dead man is bigger than life.

I am Severus Snape and join me in this world of remorse. A world without glory.

My life is drowned in the house of Slytherin. Not true house of Salazar Slytherin, but Slytherin. A house of deceit and power. A struggling ladder. A place where only the fittest survived.

Therefore, I never liked Potter and Black. They were unworthy of the many things they got. The glory that they had. In fact, I must say, I hated them and they I. The feelings were mutual. Till the very end. Their pitiful excuse for hating me was that I was 'up to my eyes in dark arts'. But it's a part of survival, a survival they took no part in until they graduated. It was a necessity when one can't turn his back to his 'friends'.

When Potter saved me that night in my sixth year, I thought I could not hate him more as Professor Dumbledore made me swore not to tell anyone about that incident. I've had convinced myself that Potter 'chickened out' from the prank. I truly did believe that, but I can never change the fact that he had saved my life. And I am forever in his debt. For the rest of my life.

I was wrong. Wrong about the extent of my hate for Potter and Black. This hate mounted the day I found myself in front of him and him with the position of Head Boy- my goal. It was a position I've wanted. The glory I've yearned since I set feet into Hogwarts. I was livid with hate. He did not deserve it.

Until this day, I still have no clue what had driven the Headmaster to promote such a...an unworthy candidate. He wasn't even a prefect.

Potter worked with Evans that year. Lily Evans, the 'Mudblood'.

The word 'Mudblood' never really bothered me then. My parents were conservative. They, similar to the Malfoys, believed in power through marriage and the purity of bloodlines. 'Mudblood' was a word I was acquainted with since an early age in that cold home.

Thinking back, I must admit that Lily Evans was a remarkable witch. Though Muggle-born, her power rose beyond her peers, pureblood and muggle-born alike. She and her love was a fire, a light. The light that casts Potter and Black's shadows on me. I had never recognized Evans true quality until that night when my conscience came hammering into my life. She was truly a brilliant witch, the epitome of love. Worthy of all titles given to her.

I was in the Dark Lord's service right after I graduated. I had thought that it was the fastest route to power, to success and glory. In Lord Voldemort's service, I've only seen horror. So much terror and pain that were done to others. I've seen the blood on the Dark Lord's hands. I can still see the blood stains on my hand. Though not visible, but always present.

I turned back that night Harry Potter survived through the power of Lily Evans' selfless devotion. Repented my ways. Dumbledore became my mentor and Hogwarts my shelter. I've been here for years. I've anticipated the arrival of the Potter's only child. It was expected. The child of two, I grudgingly admit, capable wizard folk.

When the Potter's child entered the doors of the Great hall, I did not need to be told who the son of Potter was. It was on his face. The same arrogance. The same ignorance. The same want for attention. Dislike mounted in heaps as I remembered the debt that I've yet to repay Potter. Harry Potter was his legacy. It was by Harry, that I can only repay my lifelong debt to Potter.

It was a sense of satisfaction that day when Potter stepped out of my classroom. The look of humiliation on his face was salves to the wounds in my pride. The wounds inflicted by the glory of the deceased James Potter. It was unnecessary; I honestly confess it was wrong of me. But the years of suppressed anger and contempt drove me.

That year, Quierrel was at school. A new follower to the Dark Lord. Pitiful excuse of a man. Just like I was. A sucker to power and success. In the end, he gained neither but his own death. He was what I imagined as my shadow. He was what I might have turned out to be if my conscious did not kick in.

With his attempts to eliminate Potter's only son, my debt was involved. Part of my debt was repaid through my acts. Only part though. Every time I looked at the scars left on my arms that night and the overpowering mark of the Dark Lord, I still felt the sense of owing and guilt in my heart.

The next year, Lockhart came. It was a shame to all teachers. I did not know the reasons behind Dumbledore's decision to hire such an ill qualified man for such an important subject. Through that year, I've seen Lockhart boasted instead of taught. What appalled me more was the reasonless affection many of the females had for him. Miss Granger's obvious devotions surprised me the most. It saddened me to see a witch with such potential to fall under such superficial charm. To ensure Potter's safety in the future, I paired him up with Draco Malfoy in the dueling club.

Draco Malfoy...a boy I want to help. He is what I was in my youth. Willing to please and prejudice. A boy from a truly dark family, contrary to their light appearance. The boy was taught about Dark Arts the moment he was able to walk. Potter dueling with him had hopefully learnt something.

In that year, the Basilisk was set free within Hogwarts by the Weasley girl. It was obvious that she did not let the monster out consciously. But through Riddle's diary, she did. The guilt was immense within her. I remembered seeing the bounce in her steps and light within her eyes when she entered the hall. It was gone when she depart that year. She left as a woman in the shell of a young girl. She was brave, a true Gryffindor, surviving the Dark Lord. One of the only true survivors. I admire her like I admire Lily Evans. Sincerely.

In Potter's third year, his father's most annoying traits showed up in him. His adventurous and idealistic nature. Black escaped from Azkaban that year. I didn't know how he managed, but he did. (Lupin came and taught Defense. I will admit that Lupin was thorough and experienced with his subject area unlike the predecessors. But years of animosity from either part made me dislike him.) When I've finally captured my childhood nemesis, it was a sense of satisfaction. I felt brilliant to finally achieve the job of capturing Black. I was finally putting Black in his place. I would've done anything to get my hands on him. I could never forgive Black for trying to kill me and putting me forever in his best friend's debt.

Potter helped him escape.

I knew he did it. I just didn't know how. Professor Dumbledore was with him the whole time. But there was obviously foul play from his part. That was like my mentor. It is aggravating, sometimes.

Two years ago, the Dark Lord returned through Peter Pettigrew. The sidekick of Potter and Black. It was rather ironic. To know that a supposed 'friend' undone Lily Evans' magic in Potter. That day after the tournament, where Diggory came back dead, Dumbledore asked me the question I've dreaded.

"_Severus, you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready...if you are prepared..."_

I knew it would happen sometime, sooner or later. But it didn't stop the horror that question brought to me. I was to return to the service of the Lord Voldemort, working as a spy. The Mark on my arm burnt more painfully than it did in years. The blood stains seemed clearer. Black had appeared from his animagus form.

The sneer was still his face. That glare from his youth was still strong in his worn and sallow face. I thought that years would wash away the immaturity from him. But the fact remained that he was still the headstrong boy he once was when we shook hands under the observation of our mentor.

I did in fact rejoin the ranks of the Death Eater. I once again was away from my sanctuary and was exposed to the horror I tried to escape years ago. The blood. The anguish. And the fear.

The new Order was set in 12 Grimmauld Place. How...ironic. It was the house of the 'Noble and Most Ancient' house of the Blacks. A family whose hate for Muggle-borns that rivaled the Malfoys. The Blacks are all dead. I am partially guilty for killing their last heir.

This year, Ministry's involved themselves in Hogwarts. The Dark Lord became more active than he had been for years. Occlumency was necessary to be taught to Potter. Dumbledore had requested me to teach Harry Potter. He could have taught Potter himself. I believe it was his way trying to clear the abhorrence between us. It never worked. I was half hearted in my teaching, provoking him and possibly slowing his progress. The only thing I was glad was that Potter found out about the truth of his horrendous father. The only satisfaction from those lessons was that Saint Potter learnt that his father was not all wonderful.

That had resulted in another man's blood stain on my hand.

I killed Sirius Black.

Years of animosity remains. But the last of my childhood enemies was dead. I killed him, though not directly. Bellatrix did the job. His own cousin killed him in a duel that would not take place if it weren't for me.

It was guilt that overwhelmed me when I learnt about his death. Not contentment. Not the satisfaction of knowing Black got what was coming to him. I still hate him, but he has my respect now, something I do not want to give.

Black died gloriously. Defending his belief and his god son.

History repeated itself. Once again. Like all those years ago.

Their glory is the same. Their brightest moments. James Potter and Sirius Black. Though sixteen years apart, they are the same. Gryffindors. Fatherly figures of Harry Potter. They killed themselves for the boy. Because they loved the boy. It was their glory- their love. It was a glory I don't think I can achieve.

Now that they are gone, all of my animosity for them is worthless. Only my respect and guilt remain. And the debt I've yet to pay.

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A/N: Thanks for reading this I hope you like this! Please review! Also, suggestions are always welcome!! Tell me who you want to read about! I'll really work on it. Honest! Again, please review!

Oh yeah...a lil' advertisement Sequel to 'it wasn't enough to keep you' is posted Please feel free to go and read it! Please, please, please!!


	4. Narcissa

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters

A/N: Thanks to all reviewers, I love you all. I was going to write Lucius's confession...but suddenly I thought Narcissa's might be interesting, so i wrote hers first. So don't worry, I'll be writing his in sometimes in the future.

**My Confession- Narcissa**

I used to believe in love. The undying ardor between man and woman. Not anymore. Love doesn't matter. Not in the beginning, nor in the end. It does not exist in my world. And I was a fool to believe, to hope for that love.

My name is Narcissa Malfoy. A proud and last descendents of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

There is only one thing in my world- Power.

My family is the epitome of Power. One of the most influencing families in the wizarding world. From the very first Black till the very last. It is a fact unchanged for centuries past and the years to come. Though not from the original branch, in which Sirius and Regulus were in, power still flow in me. The power brought to me by my name.

I am the middle child, with Andromeda four years older and dear Bellatrix a year younger. The Golden sisters of the Black family. We were not close though. Perhaps Bella and I were closer in some ways since our age is similar. But Bellatrix and I were not close, nor Andromeda and I. We were polite to each other. We helped each other. But we did not love each other. It was only Power we wanted. Yearned for. And together, we had it. We had the power and the beauty. We had everything that any girl would want.

Everything but love. I did not even love my parents. They have done naught that encourage me to love them. To them, their daughters were porcelain dolls, trophies to the world. I was, so were Andromeda and Bella.

When Andromeda was sorted into Ravenclaw, there was so much shame. I still remember clearly that day the news arrived. My parents were furious. They put up a façade in front of guests, claiming that it did not matter. But that night, when they were alone in the house, they were screaming, blaming each other for not being 'pure' in heart enough to have their daughter sorted into Slytherin.

Until that day, I still believed in the silly thing called love. That day the truth came crashing down. Love did not exist. At least not in my world. In my world, I'm only a trophy.

Before that day, I've always wanted love. I've seen girls of my age on streets holding onto their parents' hands, laughing or crying. It never happened to me. I was always two steps behind my parents, with a posture of a top class socialite. Silent until spoken to.

Since news arrived about Andromeda's house, my parents had drilled me with the ways of Slytherin. The posture. The attitude. The mind. Though Andromeda's house was not as bad as Sirius', they were not taking the chance, in case history repeats itself.

I was sorted into Slytherin, to the relief of my parents. Things were easy. I was accustomed to that sort of life already. It was similar to home. Cold, silent and power hungry. Very Power hungry. Love was a word that did not exist at all. I sneered at that word. To me, at that age, it was a thing that powerless or fools said they have. I was neither.

My belief, or rather disbelief, for love continued until my seventh year. There were no questions for it. Every decent female in my house knew that. There was only power and those that claim the power. There was no love. It did not exist.

Evans was the Head Girl. A **_Mudblood_** Head girl. My parents were not pleased. But they did not question the authority of Dumbledore. For he was powerful. I, though, had openly challenged Evans in many areas concerning the purity of blood and power. It was something that she did not have.

'_It's sad that this is all you are looking for...There are so many greater things that a girl would want in this world.'_

Evans said that and she turned away from me and walked off with Potter, the blood traitor, hand in hand. I was livid. She was a Mudblood and I a Pureblood. Whilst I can turn away from her, _she_ can't. It was an unwritten law. But unlike what Bellatrix said I should had done- hex her, I let her walk away. It was first time in years that someone's words affected me. She was below me. Unworthy of my time. But she left me pondering. Wondering what she was referring to.

I had thought that she meant love. But I soon dismissed that thought. She was not worth my time. Nor did her romantic interest or in fact anything in general that had to do with her and love. Only power mattered. Anyone who chose love over power was a fool.

But Andromeda was no fool. She was, albeit slightly plain, the more intelligent sister of the three of us. She was quiet and power hungry. Hungry for knowledge. That was why she was in Ravenclaw.

'_Blood does not matter to me. Nor does his wealth. I will choose him no matter what...even if it means being wiped off the family tree.'_

Andromeda chose love over power.

It was the end of seventh year when the news reached Bellatrix and I at Hogwarts. We received Andromeda's letter concerning her engagement with a Mudblood. That letter was soon followed by the family owl.

When my parents found out about Andromeda's engagement to the Mudblood Tonks, she was immediately erased from the family tree. As the middle child, often ignored or overlooked; I, for once, got the attention I wanted. The pampering, the praises...the privilege of the eldest. But no sooner the burden of this power came.

The arranged marriage between the Blacks and Malfoys.

Andromeda was supposed to be betrothed of the Malfoy heir. But with her deleted from the family tree, I was to take her place. Lucius was six years senior. A man with status and power and a pure bloodline. It was the perfect match. Everyone in the household believed that. Everyone in the wizarding society believed that. To them, it was a fairytale. The Golden Princess marrying to the Prince Charming.

Secretly, I must admit, over the years, subconsciously, I've always yearned for love. The love like Andromeda's or Evans'.

The soft and comforting romance that Andromeda told me about.

'_It is the most amazing feeling of knowing that he will be there when you need him. When he puts his arms around you, you know you're home and you're safe.'_

The strong and burning passion that I've overheard from Evans.

'_It is as if I'm the most beautiful woman in the world. I look into his eyes and I can see the passion...the message of "You're the only one for me". He touches me and I know that if he were to ever let go, I would just die...'_

The marriage between Lucius and me... It was a loveless marriage. A marriage of power. A matrimony with ambitions so high that it would have made Salazar Slytherin proud.

Draco was the product of our marriage. I adore him. He was a beautiful child. He was the only thing that kept me company in the huge manor. But it was still lonely. Draco was only with me several hours of the day. As a wife of powerful and influencing family, there were certain expectations. Expectations that came with the power. It was inappropriate for me to feed or change the child. It was a servant's job.

I've drowned myself in power and the riches it brought me. It was all about power. Always have been. Power gave me everything. Nearly.

That night Lucius returned, telling me the news of the death of James and Lily Potter and the disappearance of the Dark Lord. I cried. I sobbed next to Draco's crib. But not for the vanishing of the Dark Lord. I cried for Draco...and myself.

'_Potter died trying to protect his Mudblood and his son. The Mudblood is dead too...But for some reason, the baby survived and the Dark Lord's gone...we need-...'_

I was ashamed. I finally learnt of the love Evans talked about. Her selfless love for her child. As much as I wanted to, I am not sure if I could do that. I cried for Draco because his mother did not love him. At least not enough to sacrifice herself. The courage and love, I could not obtain through power or connection.

I cried for myself too. It was that night I realized that there was something that I don't have- Love. It was something I cannot have, did not have in all my life. Even with the strongest power. Lucius would not die for me. Nor would I die for Lucius. I cried because what I thought I did not need, I needed it most. I cried because Evans had her lover's altruistic devotion and I don't. I cried because I can never have it.

I thought with time, I would learn to admire or even love Lucius. I could not though. I tried, but I was unable to. I fear him. Lucius is a handsome man. But he was cold. And his devotion lays solely in the family name and in his Lord- the Dark Lord. Everything came second. Including me, his wife and our son Draco.

When I married, I thought it didn't matter to me.

But it did.

In the end, I realize: I still yearn for love. Power will never satisfy my thirst. I am in a desert without an oasis.

* * *

A/N: another done once again, thank you to those who reviewed and please continue to review. Suggestions are welcomed and errr....I might work on Dumbledore's next keyword: might REVIEW PLEASE! I'm desperate :p 


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